Socks


Socks

 

I told my lover today

I had finally put the socks she gave me on

in the right order: the one marked “L”

on the left foot, the one marked “R”

on the right. She laughed,

all the way from Hungary.

 

It is so good to have things

to laugh about in love,

where things can get too serious

so quickly, and a certain lightness

of being is crucial, both to good sex

and good spirits. And to sound sleep.

 

I love these socks

she chose for me. I also love

her quick way to laughter,

the golf swing she showed me

the other day in the backyard,

without even stopping to laugh

at my own. This, I said to myself,

is generosity, this is love— blessedly,

with a sense of left and right.

 

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